She’s collecting acorns.
She loads her pink basket and rides back to a rugged old tree–the one that’s really three trees converging into one trunk–and fills it with her acorn treasures.
As autumn approaches, she’s thinking about the squirrels. What if she stockpiled, for days and days, every acorn she could find? What if she put them all in the tree?
One morning, a discouraged and unsuspecting squirrel would come upon that stash of treasure and go wild with pleasure.
In terms of squirrel joy, could there be anything better?
The enthusiasm with which she goes about this task of storing acorns simply to bless another creature who can neither reward nor thank her makes me wonder if she’s tapping into some spiritual truth (the kind that children always know but adults forget) about generosity.
I find myself gathering acorns with my daughter. Other neighborhood children join in. We talk about the squirrel who will rest, on one glorious day, from all his labor, and bask in the light of the sun. He’ll have so many acorns! We giggle and smile and go back to find more.
Every time I pass by that old tree, I think of ways I might create reserves of treasures for, not just squirrels, but family members and neighbors. I pray I can give extravagantly, unexpectedly, and secretly. Living with flair means I delight in that kind of giving.